A Firewhiskey Induced Dream
by Lady Buttercup
Summary: Slash.


**A/N: DO NOT JUDGE ME!**

**This was for a writing contest. I had to do slash. I don't like slash, I'm not a fan of it. I'll read it and don't have a problem with it, but it's not my favorite genre. So this is my first slash fic. It didn't turn out how I wanted it to, but I don't care. It's as good as it's going to get.**

**Don't judge me on the pairing. Don't flame. If you flame me, I'll flame you back.**

**A Firewhiskey Induced Dream**

I cleaned the lens of my camera and looked up to the sky, squinting at the bright light from the sun. I had a pounding headache and every small noise sounded ten times louder. It was my own fault that I felt like this but that didn't make it any better. I promised I would take pictures, so here I was, taking pictures.

I sighed as I pointed the camera to the sky once more to take yet another Quidditch picture. I didn't want to be out here, especially not after last night; there was just too much temptation.

I didn't have a choice, though, I promised.

I snapped a picture as Ginny Weasley flew close by. Next came a picture of her brother Ron saving the Quaffle from entering his goal. I was avoiding my favorite subject and I knew it.

I was sixteen. I know the difference between right and wrong; and what I'm feeling right now is definitely wrong.

I'm not sure when exactly it started. Maybe it had always been there and I was just now realizing it. But that couldn't be possible. I had liked others, I had liked girls! But then something changed, they didn't appeal to me, he appealed to me.

I tried to ignore the feelings as much as possible. I dated girls, but there wasn't any spark. I quit photography for a short bit, I quit dating, I even became secluded in an attempt to get rid of these feeling.

But then last night happened.

Gryffindor had won their rivalry match against Slytherin that put them in first place for the Quidditch Cup. It had been a close match, so the team decided to celebrate in style, which meant a party. It had started out as normal as could be, but then someone showed up with cases of Firewhiskey.

I don't drink. It's just something that I don't do. So while everyone else grabbed a bottle and sat around laughing, drinking, being merry, I sat in the corner trying not to throw-up from the smell.

But then I saw him talking to some girls.

After trying to deny these feelings for so long, I suddenly realized that I couldn't. I loved him and I couldn't help it. While I watched him flirt with those girls, I became angry. I actually got so angry I broke one of my older cameras. I didn't mean to, I swear, but it just happened.

So I got a bottle of Firewhiskey and drank till I forgot, mind you it took a couple of bottles, but eventually I forgot. Of course passing out was the only way I could forget. And then I had a dream.

This dream, this vision started out exactly like real life. I was woken up on the couch when the fire was nothing but dying embers. I looked around saw that the common room was trashed. Bottles, confetti, banners, and food lay everywhere. The house elves were going to have their work cut out for them.

I looked around the entire room until my eyes finally rested on the person who had woken me up. Who else but my one true love? He touched my arm to see if I truly awake and when he lifted his hand, my arm burned with his body heat. My breathing rate increased as I realized that I was alone in this room with him. Nobody would know what happened.

We stared at each other in the dark room. I wanted to just grab his hand and hold it. I just wanted to touch him. Maybe then he would realize that he loved me as much as I loved him.

But it would never be, he finally looked away and talked.

"Let's get you to your bed."

With a lot of difficultly, he finally got me to sit up and stand up. I swayed as the blood of rushed to my head. I blindly reached from something to steady myself. He grabbed my arm and steadied me.

"Don't worry, I won't let you fall."

He half carried me across the disaster zone of a common room to my room where he silently laid me down in my bed. My roommates were already asleep or passed out in their beds.

As he was about to pull the hangings of my bed closed, he looked at me one last time. This is the part where I realized was a dream. He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, but dangerously close to the lips.

I almost stopped breathing. I couldn't believe he had done that, but then again it was a dream, so he could do anything. But he didn't do anything else; he closed the hangings and left the room.

When I woke up the next morning I had a pounding headache and the worst morning breath ever. I squinted as sunlight peeked through the partially opened hangings. How had I gotten here? I asked myself, remembering nothing of the night before except the strange dream.

When I rolled over and lazily opened my hanging I found a note on the dresser next to my bed.

_Colin Creevey,_

_Remember you promised you would photograph the team today during practice._

_Harry Potter, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain_

What captain did that to a team? Was he mental or something? I don't even remember promising that, but then again I was very forgetful and probably lost 20 IQ points because of last night. I groaned very loudly as I dressed quickly and grabbed my camera.

When I got the Quidditch pitch I saw the team was already practicing, practicing sluggishly, but still practicing. Instead of disturbing them, I climbed my way to the stand and started photograph each player in turn or together as they flew around on their broomsticks around the pitch.

So here I was, avoiding looking at him at all costs. If I looked at him I don't know how I would react, but I'm sure it wouldn't be good.

I positioned my camera to the sky once more to get a shot of Ginny and Ron arguing, but then he flew past and almost involuntarily my camera followed. And then, before I even knew it, my finger began snapping pictures as he sat still in the air. It was as if he knew that I was taking the pictures and he wanted to look his best.

* * *

I stood in my make-shift dark room, looking at the pictures I had taken the previous day. I made a pile of the pictures of him and another of the rest of the players; the pile of him was considerably higher.

A knock sounded on the door and I panicked, trying to hide the pictures. Almost nobody saw pictures I took.

"Come in," I croaked out when I was sure all of the pictures were hidden.

"Hey Colin, are you done with pictures from yesterday yet?" Harry said as he stepped into the room and shutting the door.

"Um, no, not yet. This afternoon," I lied.

"Oh, ok, then," Harry said, looking down at his feet. An awkward silence pasted between us as we both looked at our feet. Finally Harry spoke, "I want to talk to you about last night."

"What happened last night?" I asked curiously. I didn't remember anything last night except for the dream, and again, that was just a dream.

"Um, well after you passed out last night…," Harry started then drifted off. "I was sure you were awake."

"That wasn't a dream?" I asked, clearly shocked. Harry smiled a little and shook his head.

"I'm sorry if I did something that you didn't appreciate or something," Harry apologized.

"No it was fine," I gushed. Harry laughed.

"Well, now that that's cleared up, you want to go get a drink or something? Some Firewhiskey maybe?"

**A/N: Don't flame. I've seen one fic of this pairing and the reviews I read were almost all flames. I love making...'strange' couples. Constructive cristim is welcome, though.**


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